


The Zoo

by MKK



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aliens, Awkward Sexual Situations, Captivity, Developing Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Zoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3272873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MKK/pseuds/MKK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elim Garak and Julian Bashir are returning from a mission to the Gamma Quadrant when their runabout is thrown into unexplored space. The alien beings who intercept them are huge, imposing, and impossible to understand.  Very unfortunate.  How lucky, though, that the beings seem pleased and eager to help.  Why wouldn't they be - it isn't often that two lost pets as exotic and as fascinating as Garak and Bashir are discovered!   Where to take these odd, delicate creatures so they will receive the best care possible?  The Grand Zoo of Bor'wat No'voo, of course.  Where else?</p><p>Takes place sometime after "Our Man Bashir."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My previous story was serious, introspective and occasionally tragic. This one, however... isn't. However, I wish to add a warning. While it's meant to be a farce, it contains non-consensual and invasive procedures, sometimes of a sexual nature, that could be offensive or disturbing. Please be aware of this before reading.
> 
> *****   
> I wrote a shorter version of this years ago with a co-author for a fanzine. I've been wanting to add to it, make it a little sillier and smuttier than it already was, so this version is about a chapter or two longer than the original, with my co-author's original contributions kept and interwoven throughout. She's given her blessing and said I could simply acknowledge her as "a friend." (Liz Williams.) She has a wonderful and wry sense of humor and made this so much fun then - I had to go back to it! So thank you to my friend (Liz Williams) as I have more fun years later revisiting the zoo. Any errors there may be in the story are mine. Oh, and by the way, Liz's books are at Amazon.com!

"Let us OUT of here!!" Doctor Julian Bashir pounded the glass-like wall of the unfamiliar alien prison cell with his fists, his face reddening, his breathing rapid. "I demand to talk to someone in authority! I demand to know why we're being held!" A few meters away, the Cardassian, Elim Garak, sadly shook his head.

"It won't do any good, you know."

"Why not?" Bashir turned and angrily regarded him; Garak was attempting to drink from a pipe which dribbled a constant, thin stream of water into a shallow basin in the corner. "I want them to know that they can't just hold us here - that we'll put up a fight if need be."

"Whatever you say." Garak sank down onto the tiled floor. "However, I must remind you that 'putting up a fight' against an evidently hostile Gamma Quadrant race fully two meters taller than we are -"

"Yes, yes, I know. You're right, of course. As usual." Bashir, irritated, tiredly rubbed his forehead. "I don't know what to do any more. This is all incredibly frustrating - if there were only some way to communicate with them, some way to figure out what it is they want from us... I'm assuming it's our technology they're after. But wouldn't you think we'd have received more indication of their intentions over the past - what - four hours?" He glared then at the dripping water pipe. "Their standard of living seems quite primitive. But this - this is ridiculous." He idly picked at a metal tray of food that was sitting near him on the tiles; the nuts and berries looked appetizing enough, despite their unfamiliar origin.

"Well, perhaps this is just the way they treat their prisoners," Garak sighed. "Perhaps their actual living quarters are more - palatial. And... by the way... did you happen to notice any indication of a bathroom in this cell?"

"Of course not. I assume they take us out to one, when they feel it's necessary."

"It's been necessary for quite some time." Garak shifted uncomfortably. "There appears to be a drain over in the corner - I think, if you'll excuse me, doctor -"

"Go right ahead." Bashir leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. It seemed only moments ago that he and Garak, alone in the runabout for the most routine of missions to New Bajor in the Gamma Quadrant, had found themselves thrown off course by some sort of interspatial disturbance, then intercepted and boarded. There had been absolutely no indication of trouble beforehand; in fact, the mission was going so smoothly that he hadn't even protested when Garak slid into the seat next to him and began to - he smiled despite himself. It was good to be re-establishing a little of that old relationship again. 

He had thought, after the incident in the holosuite, that Garak was assiduously avoiding him, yet the Cardassian had agreed willingly enough to accompany him through the wormhole. They had laughed and joked and flirted almost as if they had just met - no, it was better than when they had first met, because they were so much more comfortable with each other now, so much less awkward. 

On the other hand, perhaps that was part of the problem. Garak, suddenly feeling remarkably bold and the very opposite of awkward, had then pivoted around until he was half-draped across Bashir's lap, positioned between him and the runabout's control console - Garak's back must have nudged one of the settings out of adjustment even as his body (his "great bulk," as Bashir in irritation referred to it later) blocked the human's access to the instruments.

Just then, without warning, the computer had bellowed "Intruder Alert," and a pair of imposing, fur-covered, and unbelievably tall specimens of Gamma Quadrant life had materialized directly behind them, crouching down in the tiny cabin. Within the next second, Garak and Bashir had found themselves entangled in a large rope net (was the rope net really necessary, Bashir had also mused later in irritation,) and then stunned with some sort of projectile - until they awoke to find themselves alone in their alien cell. The air was moist and humid, and water dribbled constantly from the pipe in the floor as well as another pipe positioned above a steamy, shallow pool. The cell was barren except for large clumps of dry brown moss scattered about at random, and a planter holding a small leafy tree in the back. There was no furniture, no chair, no bed, not even a toilet, leaving the two captives with the hope that they were probably in a holding cell meant for very short-term use, nothing more. 

A small doorway in one wall had admitted the tray of food, which had been pushed through and then slid over the tiles a few meters into the cell. A much larger doorway in the back of the cell would, no doubt, admit one of their captors, when necessary. Bashir shivered. He had been taken prisoner before, but never in a situation without the Universal Translator - and never in a situation in which he had been given no clue as to the reason for his capture. Technology, medical secrets, body parts... he shivered again. It was obvious that the quite unsophisticated beings who had imprisoned them were in awe of the higher level of development he and Garak represented; perhaps their culture was simply in need of the medical and scientific knowledge and expertise the two could bring to this quite primitive world. Still, they had an odd way of making their wishes known. Bashir might have been willing to listen, perhaps even to cooperate earlier, but now - now fear was beginning to mix with his anger, much too quickly. He rose to his feet and began to pace.

"Stop that," the Cardassian said, without looking up.

"Sorry," Bashir muttered. Crossing to the tray, he knelt down and began to pick his way through the food.

"Let's try and deal with this logically," Garak suggested after a moment or two, watching him. "Do we have any way of telling whether any of this stuff is actually edible? You've been eating it. Have you noticed any ill effects?"

"No. So it's unlikely to be highly toxic. If it's going to make me ill, it'll probably do so within the next 26 hours."

Garak glanced around the narrow confines of the cell. "Could be nasty."

"Aren't you going to eat?" Bashir asked, annoyed. "I don't think they're going to be swayed by a hunger strike, so you may as well get some nourishment into you when it's offered. Or are you waiting to see what happens to me first?"

The Cardassian gave him a pained glance. "Certainly not. But I can't eat that sort of food. I'm not a vole. Cardassian digestive systems are geared towards animal protein like fish, not - not beans. I should be able to last for some time without food - as long as there's water. And besides - my reluctance to eat may perhaps teach them something about us, cause them to try something else."

His prediction proved correct. Unfortunately. Shortly after their conversation, two of the beings appeared beyond the glass wall and what was evidently a conversation ensued. There seemed to be some remonstrance going on between them. The taller, darker being waved its huge arms, pointing towards the cell. Then the small door - a slot, really - in the side wall opened slightly, a long metal instrument grabbed and retrieved the tray of seeds and pods in front of the wondering looks of Garak and Bashir, and slid it back out of view until it reappeared on the other side of the glass. Ignoring the Cardassian's warning glance, Bashir crossed to the glass and peered through. One of the immense beings was now squatting at the other end of the open area, almost out of view. It was chewing. He could see the powerful jaws grinding away. "What's it doing?" Garak whispered.

"Eating our lunch! Our only food! How dare they offer it and then take it back!" Bashir said, obscurely annoyed. His stomach growled in protest.

"Oh well," Garak remarked philosophically, "rather him than me."

"Yes, but it was all we had!"

"It doesn't seem to be agreeing with him... her," Garak said, creeping to the edge of the glass for a better view. The being's chewing had slowed, and its cheeks bulged. Suddenly and neatly, it regurgitated the food it had chewed back onto the tray in a sodden lump. A moment later, the results reappeared in the cell. Garak regarded it with horror.

The being was now peering through the glass with an indecipherable expression on its large furry face.

"I'm not putting up with this sort of treatment," the Cardassian said, outraged. "There's a time for tact and diplomacy, and a time for throwing food." He picked up the tray and hurled it at the glass. The soggy remains of lunch dribbled slowly down the transparent surface.

"Was that absolutely necessary?" Bashir sighed. "That may do nothing more than infuriate them, and since they already most definitely have the upper hand here in this prison..."

"The art of communication is to get one's message across. I believe that I have successfully informed our hosts that it will be a cold day in the lowest regions of the Great Gul's Hell before I consume something pre-digested." 

The being was staring at the mess with something close to bewilderment on its face. Then it turned and strode swiftly from the cell, leaving them alone.

A day later, no more food had appeared and the effects of this were manifested in shortened tempers. Bashir started by questioning the wisdom of Garak's proffered caresses on the runabout just before the malfunction; then he more worriedly questioned the wisdom of his companion's most recent decision to antagonize their jailers. "If you hadn't thrown the food at him, he might have given us some more," Bashir snapped, pointing to the curdled, dried remnants which now adorned the glass.

"Gul knows what he might have done to dinner," Garak replied, with a dark glance. "Is that how these people normally eat, one wonders? Remind me not to accept any dinner party invitations while we're here." Cupping his hands beneath the trickle of water, he drank thirstily, then paused. "Something's wrong with the water. It tastes strange..." he murmured, a moment before collapsing to the floor.

"Garak!" Bashir cried. Hurrying to the Cardassian's side, he put a hand to Garak's ridged brow. There was no fever, and Garak's breathing was at its usual slow, steady rate. He was, however, completely unconscious. A sound from behind the cell wall caused Bashir to raise his head, and when he looked back, the Cardassian was gone, transported away. Anxious and frightened, Bashir sank back down to the floor and waited.

* * * * *

"Operator," Behaneth Survani said. "This unworthy one craves a moment of your attention."

"What is it?" Operator Arrok asked wearily, glancing up from the documentation. 

"This unworthy one is concerned about the female."

"What's wrong with her? And you can use the referential diminutive, Survani. Let's not stand on ceremony here."

Gratefully, Survani bowed and said, "I think she might be ill. She will not eat - I've even tried pahraka for her, but nothing seems to work. And her behavior is erratic. Lethargic one moment, violent the next - and she displays occasional annoyance with the male."

"Perhaps she is in the first stages of breeding," Arrok suggested, hopefully. "All your observations logically point in that direction." He brightened. "That would make our task easier - and think, Survani! Little ones in time for the Superlative's visit!"

"That would indeed be marvelous," Survani said cautiously. "But if she does not eat soon, she will die. Already she is pale and sleeps much of the day."

"Women," Arrok said, with a negligent gesture. "When you are fortunate enough to earn breeding status, Survani, you will learn that this is normal, even in the animal kingdom." He paused, struck by a sudden thought. "Survani - you're absolutely sure that she *is* the female of the pair, aren't you?"

Survani bridled slightly and replied, "I *am* a biologist, Operator. Clearly she is female. She is larger, after all, with no indications of facial hair, and possesses higher deposits of fat, although I would surmise that she has not yet borne a litter. Clearly, therefore, she has not long emerged from puberty. But just as surely, just as clearly - she is female, through and through."

"Clearly," Arrok hesitatingly agreed. "Clearly. But those scales and ridges," he mused. "What purpose would those serve, do you think?"

"Secondary sexual characteristics."

"I see. Well, we don't want to take any chances, I suppose. If you wish to more thoroughly examine her, you may." Survani bowed again.

* * * * *

When Garak awoke, there was a face gazing down at him that appeared roughly the size of Bajor. He struggled to sit up, but his arms were bound. The being made murmuring noises and then placed a large hand over his face. Garak responded with muffled protests. He felt his mouth being forced open and an instrument was inserted. He gagged, but to no avail: the instrument held his jaws apart. He watched with a combination of fury and fear as a long, slender tube was inserted. If he moved his head very slightly, he could see the being at the other side of the room, bending over an assortment of pods. The being held one of these up and beamed, displaying an alarming array of flat yellow teeth, interspersed with numerous needle-like canines.

"*****!" said the being and then, to Garak's sinking dismay, it placed the pod in its mouth and started to chew.

* * * * *


	2. Chapter 2

"God, I'm glad to see you," Bashir said in relief as Garak manifested back in the cell. He slid an arm around the Cardassian's shoulders and hugged him. "Are you all right? What happened? What did they do to you?" Garak gave him a long, unreadable look.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Garak - it could be crucial to our survival here. We need to find out all we can about these people, and why they're holding us."

"Give me a moment," the Cardassian said. "I need some water. I would assume it's untainted now." He sipped cautiously, then leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"What happened?" Bashir asked again.

"I was fed."

"That's all? They fed you?"

"Believe me," Garak murmured, "that's quite enough. Anyway, it wasn't entirely all. They conducted some sort of physical examination. Of a personal nature."

"How personal?"

"Let's just say that I haven't been that intimate with anyone for quite some time."

"Oh God. I suppose they're trying to find out all they can about us, including how we function reproductively, so they can use it to -" he stopped; he didn't want to invoke even the hint of torture to a former member of the Obsidian Order, who quite possibly was familiar with the concept, and not only as a recipient. Why raise that specter at all? But it was too late. Garak, however, looked resigned rather than terrified.

"I'm afraid I was unable to give them a great deal of assistance in that respect. As you may know, Cardassian sexual organs are mostly retracted until -" He stopped. He had always wanted to show rather than tell the appealing young doctor; no need to go on about that particular Cardassian characteristic, he reflected, as he sat up, wincing. "There was, unfortunately, some degree of exploration of another area nearby. They don't seem precisely hostile, however, doctor, so I suppose we must be thankful for small mercies."

"That's true," Bashir mused, halting his mental disrobing of his Cardassian friend. "After all, we haven't actually been harmed."

"Speak for yourself. The affront to my dignity has been considerable. But I would agree. They seem more curious than aggressive - almost shy, even. I believe they're quite impressed with us, possibly even a little in awe of us. I suggest that the more information we endeavor to give them, the quicker we might get out of here."

"I think that's an excellent plan."

"Good. Next time, you can volunteer."

* * * * *

Behaneth Su Survani read anxiously through the scans. Despite his assurances, he was by no means convinced that they had succeeded in fortuitously stumbling upon and then capturing a breeding pair. The female's pelvic cavity appeared to contain nothing that resembled pupation sacs, nor did she exhibit any of the signs of sruh'ash. It was always possible, Survani considered uneasily, that they had inadvertently managed to locate a species whose reproductive processes resembled no known norms. But if he told Arrok of his worries, then Arrok would be honor-bound to inform the Superlative's staff, and support for the zoo might well be withdrawn.

The zoo's position was precarious enough without this kind of added complication, and if the program was wound down, then it would be Arrok who suffered. He was already in a near-constant state of agitation over the success, or lack thereof, of the zoo's various hunting expeditions to procure new and interesting specimens to enrich the cultural and scientific knowledge of the citizens of the province. Survani had been overjoyed when this latest catch had proved so fascinating - and so promising. Survani disliked Arrok intensely, but that was irrelevant. His position as a member of the zhun'ur entailed that he was compelled to protect his superior, no matter what the cost to himself. If Arrok wanted an exotic breeding pair, Survani decided, then a breeding pair must be what he would have.

He pre-chewed his way through a variety of savory roots, and carried the results carefully down to the containment pens. The spectacle before him made his hearts sink. Both specimens lay limply against the wall, but to Survani's delight, they seemed to wake as he approached. They stood up and came eagerly towards the glass.

"Look!" said Survani kindly, proferring the plate of mush. "Look, my dear creatures! Look what I've brought you!" He clucked his tongue a few times as one might do to soothe unruly ran'ku, then slid the tray into the pen through the slot in the outside wall. His latest acquisitions regarded it with interest, but to Survani's surprise, their attention did not appear to be gastronomic. Instead, they began to mold their food into patterns. A ball, from the indigo nhar root; then a spicy seed pod, and a long column of peklar seeds. The specimens made gestures, animated and complex. Survani frowned. Perhaps this was some digestive necessity. Or perhaps - just perhaps - it was a prelude to - no. That would be too good to be true - a prelude to mating. 

He continued to watch, fascinated. The creatures' eyes were wide. They made sounds. Survani waited patiently until they became still, and then, at the risk of interrupting a possible pre-mating ritual, he raised a tentative tentacle to his mouth and performed an eating gesture. The specimens seemed to droop. Ignoring the food, they retreated to the wall. Survani waited a few more moments and then departed.

* * * * *

Bashir stared disconsolately at the rudimentary map of Bajor and the station. "I'm not sure what else to try," he said.

"Cultural differences or no cultural differences, I am beginning to suspect that this individual guarding us is simply a moron," Garak complained.

"You may have a point. However, I'm not going to give up now. If we can't make it understand us and find out what it wants from us, then we'll just have to think of a way to get out of here on our own."

"There's no way we're going to be able to break out of the cell," Garak mused. "That would seem to leave subterfuge." He brightened, and Bashir sighed. "And there's something else I'm starting to wonder." Bashir waited. "Has it occurred to you that, with our rather expensive clothing and our extremely valuable ship, we may simply be finding ourselves as the guests of mercenaries who are holding us for ransom?"

"Ransom? How did you come to THAT conclusion? Because they feed us such slop?"

"No - because they haven't given us any other indication of why we're here. No list of demands, no questions about our origin, no inquiries about Federation defenses - nothing. It is my belief that they possibly already know all those things and simply want their ransom demands met."

Bashir considered this for a moment. "But... but then why did they transport you out of here?"

"Isn't it obvious? To keep me alive and healthy by feeding me while they negotiate for our release."

"But then why would they examine you the way they did?"

"I AM a Cardassian, you know, doctor," Garak smiled. "Few races can boast males of such virility and power as the Cardassians. They simply wanted to take a look for themselves."

Bashir didn't remind Garak that the beings hadn't exactly been probing the source of Cardassian virility and power, but no matter. That theory at least went a little way toward explaining the fact that, just as he said, their captors were making no demands on them beyond the wish that they eat.

Some time later, Bashir, curled up and dozing in a far corner of the cell, watched with interest as a large platter was again pushed through the door slot. The prospect of food - perhaps edible this time - made the doctor's stomach lurch in anticipation. The beetles, larvae and other assorted grubs on the platter caused it to lurch for a different reason. He jumped to his feet.

"Damn it! Bugs!! Garak, help me get rid of these bugs!" Several of the aforementioned bugs had already taken wing and were spiraling up toward the ceiling lights, while others were content to writhe and wriggle on the ground. "What are they trying to do to us? Is this torture, or just some kind of joke?" He whirled about, stamping his feet like a flamenco dancer as Garak roused himself to do the same, arms flailing to ward off the flyers.

"Doctor - if you'd just hold still -"

"What?" Bashir waited, panting.

"I think you've got a couple of them in your hair. Come here." Bashir approached and obediently bowed his head as Garak gingerly felt among the human's thick curls for any of the insects. So absorbed was he in his task that he failed to notice the interested audience beyond the glass.

"There - I think that's all of them. Let's scoop them over toward that drain." Using the edges of their boots, the two pushed the crushed insect bodies across the floor, Bashir carrying the tray with the remains of the collection and rinsing it off at the pipe.

"There - crisis averted. Now, doctor, let's just think for a moment." Garak led the human back by the arm to the opposite corner of the cell. "I'm far from convinced that our captors mean us no harm, as you suggested. On the other hand... I don't believe those insects were meant to frighten or disgust us - I think they were meant to be our food."

"Our FOOD?"

"Well, certainly. Isn't it obvious? I wasn't eating the items they brought us at first, you refused to touch the regurgitated food, so I assume they decided to try something new."

"Then I hope they got the message."

"I hope so too. One thing is certain: for all their poking and prodding and other indignities, I'm beginning to sense a pattern here. I think that they want us well-fed and content. I think, in other words, ransom demands or no, that they have a civilized code of conduct regarding prisoners." Bashir began to interrupt; the Cardassian, warming to his theme, ignored him. "Perhaps as they become familiar with us and our physical appearance and requirements, they'll realize we pose no threat and have nothing from which they can possibly benefit, and they'll let us go."

"If you say so, Garak."

"I'm sure our intelligence and resourcefulness are quite obvious to them - perhaps those creatures are even developing more than a grudging respect for us." He smiled, pleased with his own speculations.

* * * * *

Survani watched as the female began a tentative investigation of her companion's hair, and breathed a sigh of relief. In many species, such characteristic grooming behavior was often a preliminary to mating; it seemed that his prediction that the pair would prove to be a successful breeding couple once they settled down a bit was essentially correct. Returning to his office, he contacted Arrok with the good news. Arrok was, however, annoyingly skeptical.

"It's all very well to say that they might mate. But what if they don't? We don't have all the time in the world to sit around waiting for them to decide whether they fancy one another or not. We have to find some way to speed up the process."

"With respect," Survani said, trying to hide his irritation, "animals don't perform to order. Well, that is, unless they've been specially trained, of course. And until and unless they're comfortable in their environment, they're unlikely to mate either, and they need time -"

"Which we don't have! Do some more tests, Survani. I want answers." And with that, he closed the link. Survani sat back in his chair and gave a honk of frustration, then returned to the cage.

The pair were once again sitting apart. Their eyes were dull and glazed, and they emanated a palpable air of listlessness. Survani thought back, trying to think what might have generated the grooming behavior, and then it came to him. The grooming had taken place shortly after feeding. Perhaps if more food was offered, the female might once again approach the male. Perhaps they came from a species where the male's sexual worth was predicated on his ability to supply food, whether or not the female was in a mood to consume it. It was only speculation but it was worth a try. Survani hastened back to the office and, throwing caution to the winds, ordered more bugs - lots of them, and of many varieties.

"What are we to do with them?" the biologist in charge of the feeding schedule demanded.

"Put them in with the new specimens!" Survani instructed.

"All of them? At once?"

"Why not? Let's see what effects largesse might have."

* * * * *


	3. Chapter 3

Bashir awoke to a feathery touch on his cheek. Smiling, he brushed it away, mumbling "Stop it, Garak," before lapsing back into an uncomfortable doze. The sensation continued, this time tickling him on the arm and under his collar. "Garak, please, will you just -" He opened his eyes.

The cell was alive with winged creatures, while across the tiled floor and up the walls crawled an incredible variety of native spiders, beetles and centipedes. Bashir had a fleeting and wild vision of himself trapped in an insect display case at some museum, just after all the specimens came to life. He jumped to his feet, dislodging the still sleeping Cardassian.

"GARAK! Get up!!"

"Hmm?" Garak lazily opened his eyes; then, as the reality of the situation dawned, he scrambled off the floor and looked helplessly about him. Bashir, recognizing the futility of their struggle, could only stare wide-eyed at the insect invasion. He had never thought of himself as overly squeamish about bugs; on the other hand, he had never had to deal too frequently with eight-centimeter-long millipedes crawling up his trouser leg. With a curse, he shook the bug off, then began waving his arms in the air in an attempt to ward off any potential landings. Garak, meanwhile, was again engaged in the flamenco-like movements of insect-crushing, but the vast number of invaders, and his own tired and hungry state, threatened to undermine all his efforts.

"They're punishing us for something," Bashir panted, arms now covering his head. "Something we did or didn't do. Or maybe they want to torture us with these things after all."

"On the contrary, doctor, they may simply be amused by our reaction. It may be that they're merely trying to humiliate their prisoners. If we sit still and stop acting upset, perhaps their entertainment will be spoiled."

"I'm not sitting down among these things, I'm -" At that moment, both sets of eyes were drawn to the large and, up until that point, unused door in one wall of the cell. Perhaps it was the way the insects were skittering under it, or perhaps it was simply the promise of freedom it represented, but by unspoken agreement, both men began gingerly moving toward the potential opening.

"We couldn't force it before; what makes you think we can do it now?" Garak muttered, trying not to open his mouth - he had inadvertently snacked on several of the smaller flyers already. 

"No harm in trying it again," Bashir likewise muttered. "Both of us together this time, not like before - that might do it. On the count of three - just run forward and push your shoulder into it. It looks fairly weak."

"I beg your pardon, doctor!"

"I meant the door. Come on - one, two - THREE!" Both sets of shoulders slammed into the door and into a sampling of the insect invaders as well; the door seemed to buckle outward slightly.

"Come on - try again. One, two... THREE!" Again the rush for the door, which this time opened so quickly and unexpectedly that the two men found themselves flailing together on top of each other on the ground, blinking against the blinding glare of the alien sun.

"I can't believe it was that easy," Garak mused, rubbing his shoulder.

"Maybe they underestimated our strength. Come on, let's get moving." Extending a hand, Bashir hauled the Cardassian to his feet and started to gingerly pick his way among the unfamiliar vegetation. The air was hot, dry and still, the sky cloudless and a very pale rose-lavender, the thicker vegetation away from the cell obscuring any details of a path or other means of escape.

"Doctor - listen. Can you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Bashir stopped and listened, barely breathing. "What is it, Garak?"

"I thought I heard rushing water. A stream or a waterfall, or something. And - and voices."

"Keep moving, whatever it is," Bashir reprimanded him, as he reached a tangle of bushes and began to push through. "We may finally have outsmarted them. There's no time for exploration now - we've got to get as far away from this place as we possibly -" Suddenly, with a tremendous splash, he broke through the leaves and branches and landed in a large pool, Garak teetering on the edge behind him. Twenty meters away, a crowd of aliens stood behind a forbiddingly secure fence, watching the two and grunting in appreciation.

* * * * *

"You see?" Survani crowed in triumph. "I told you they were settling down. It's all a question of the correct diet."

Arrok gave a skeptical sniff through his fourth nostril, and Survani bit back irritation. He was well aware of Arrok's status; it wasn't necessary for his superior to constantly keep reminding him... With an effort, he brought his attention back to what Arrok was saying.

"- didn't seem to be actually *eating* any of the food," Arrok was grumbling.

"No matter," Survani replied airily. "Clearly the presence of an abundant food supply reassured the creatures, made them seek the sunlight - you saw how they happily skipped out into the enclosure once they'd performed the mating dance."

"Mating dance? What mating dance?"

Surevani bridled. "The female - making those flamboyant motions, evidently an invitation to coitus. The male, responding to her advances, now coy, now eager... We have it all recorded and I hope to begin analyzing the sequences later."

"And it didn't look to me as though they 'skipped.' They seemed to be trying to break down the door."

"Yes... We really need to do something about that entrance into the enclosure - the door is supposed to have opened when they approached it; I hadn't realized the mechanism was out of order. But, aside from that, I think you can be confident, Arrok, that we are on the verge of a breakthrough. And," here Survani mottled his fur in a becomingly modest gesture, "I have another little surprise for you. And, I daresay, for them."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"Well, you know when we captured the creatures we did all manner of tests while they were still unconscious?"

"Yes."

"Well, some of the tests concerned the pheromonal element of the creatures' physiology." He waited for a reaction from Arrok; none was forthcoming. He continued. "I sent the results up to the lab and they think they've cracked the exact nature of the pheromonal reactions common to this species. As one would expect with different genders, they're not quite the same, but anyway, the lab has synthesized the results and we hope to run a test quite soon." Arrok looked utterly blank.

"What sort of a test?"

Survani tried not to let his irritation show. Really, there were times when his superior could be so dense... "Well, there may not be any pressing need for this now that the creatures seem to be engaging in a mating ritual anyway, but you were so insistent that we hurry things along that, now that we've had this unexpected piece of good news from the lab, I suggest we enhance the creatures' pheromonal output. Nothing like a good, old-fashioned case of irresistible animal lust to get things moving along."

"You're talking about a radical artificial increase of their sex drives?" Arrok said, with the first sign of enthusiasm he'd shown since the project began.

"Exactly."

* * * * *

As Bashir floundered about in the deep pool, struggling awkwardly to reach the edge, Garak gingerly inched his way around it and regarded the crowd of excited aliens watching him. 'Prison guards,' he thought. 'They're the same all over the galaxy - taking delight in others' humiliation.' He was about to pick up a stick to hurl at them when he noticed that several of the smaller ones seemed to be hurling things at HIM, things that looked suspiciously like - no, it was impossible. He'd enjoyed Terran peanuts once or twice at Quark's bar - it was remarkable how they served to increase one's thirst and one's wish to purchase additional beverages, a fact of which Quark seemed suspiciously unaware - but there was simply no way that Terran peanuts could have reached this far into the Gamma Quadrant. 

Still, if the guards thought they were going to frighten him, they had better think again. Those peanuts would provide a valuable source of nourishment. He stooped down and began to gather them into his pockets, as more of the mysterious projectiles bounced off his back. Seconds later, a dripping wet Bashir walked up to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Picking up these nuts. I think we've found our dinner, dear boy."

"Why are they throwing them at us?"

"Does it matter? Perhaps they mean to drive us back into the cell."

"Well, we're still in just as much of a prison out here as we were in there," Bashir sighed, listlessly gathering a few peanuts. "With the fences, and the moat, and the guards, I don't think we're ever getting out of here."

"It IS discouraging, I grant you. But as soon as we regain our strength and rest for a little while, I have several other ideas in that direction." Bashir didn't bother to pursue the subject. Instead, he started to unfasten his soaked uniform jacket, and then pulled the wet shirt likewise over his head. The crowd seemed to draw back.

* * * * *

"Operator! Operator!" Survani cried, breathless with excitement. "Please come look at the monitor!" Arrok shuffled over to the distraught biologist with a 'This had better be good' sort of air. Survani could barely speak.

"The male! The male!" he finally managed to squawk. "Do you see?"

Arrok peered more closely, then did a doubletake, tentacles stiffening with surprise. "That creature is removing its garments."

"Yes! Yes!!" Survani exulted. "All by himself!! So much for our theory - it appears these animals are almost as advanced as our own ran'ku."

"Perhaps. Let's not jump to any hasty conclusions about their intellect."

"No, of course not," the biologist acquiesced, leaving out the 'pompous oaf' that was going to conclude that sentence. "No, I would never presume to equate their intelligence with that of the most clever of our domestic animals. Still, to see the male able to remove his own clothing -"

"Yes, it IS most interesting. I wonder who dressed these animals, and why. They do seem very attached to these garments."

"The female was highly indignant at being stripped of them, and only calmed down when we re-dressed her."

"Most unusual. Remember the colony of wa'mu we used to clothe in tiny matching jackets and boots for Children's Day?" Survani nodded. "These outfits are far more elaborate and much more complicated for these creatures to manipulate. But I'm afraid we're going to have to risk depriving the male. We need to analyze this fabric. Go retrieve those items - perhaps we'll discover a clue as to whose spacecraft they were inhabiting when they were abandoned."

"I'm sure that was not on purpose. They must have been beloved pets," Survani mused dreamily, watching the pair on the monitor as they settled into each other's arms, out of sight of the crowd observing them from outside the cage. "So gentle, so - so CUTE," he finished, glancing shyly at his superior. "The male is beginning to sprout more facial hair, and the female - the female's ridges are absolutely enchanting. How I'd love to own such pets." His thoughts drifted to his solitary home, which would be solitary no longer, the two creatures curled up contentedly at the foot of his bed as he leaned down to give each of them an affectionate rub on the backs of their fur-less necks...

Arrok regarded him coldly. "These were captured for study and for the good of our zoo. They're not 'pets' any longer. Besides, they have already proven their capacity for violent behavior. Did you not notice that they almost broke down the door? What if YOU had been standing there?"

"I'm sure they wouldn't hurt me. I'm sure they're basically docile. In fact, I'm convinced I could train them to even - to even perform simple tricks." He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the sarcastic onslaught. None came. Arrok only sighed, shook his head, and ordered Survani to see to the garments and the hormone injections.

* * * * *


	4. Chapter 4

"Mmmm... This is nice," Bashir smiled, eyes closed. He was lying against Garak's chest and between his legs, the Cardassian half-leaning against the outside wall of the cell. A thick growth of bushes protected them from curious observers, and the sun was warm and comforting. Bashir's jacket, shirt and trousers were draped across a low tree branch nearby, his boots on the ground beneath. He had decided against removing his underwear. He was still more shy than he expected to be, with Garak, and was reluctant to take the step of lying naked against him while the Cardassian remained fully clothed. After all, their relationship so far had been one of mild and then overt flirtation, and even, more recently, a few less-than-brotherly hugs interspersed with an even fewer number of rather awkward kisses. But nudity? No, he wasn't quite ready for that yet, even here.

Garak lowered his head and placed a quick kiss on the top of Bashir's head. "I never told you this, but if there's anyone I'd want to be taken prisoner with, it's you."

"Even after I shot you?"

"Especially after you shot me." He was about to say more, then lapsed into a comfortable silence. He was exhausted - every period of sleep had been cut dramatically short and the strain was definitely beginning to affect him. 'I must be getting soft,' he thought, drifting a lazy hand through Bashir's hair. 'I should be thinking of ways to escape - I should be...' He was asleep. Bashir, listening to the gentle snoring, smiled to himself, kept his eyes closed, and likewise began to doze. The rustle of the leaves in the gentle wind was pleasant and soothing.

Survani, in fact, took care to make each crunch and rustle as quiet as possible, as he stealthily crept up to the pair, syringe in hand. 'Just one little jab,' he thought happily, 'and we may yet be able to produce younglings for the Superlative.' Perhaps he, Survani, would even be granted his own small zoo to supervise, after such a successful breeding. No more Arrok to order him around, second-guess his every decision, and emphasize his lower-caste status. Instead, his own staff, his own domain, his own animals - he'd be sure to take these two with him. How adorable they were in sleep. Their young should be equally as adorable. He crept even closer and leaned down.

The injections themselves took a matter of seconds, a gentle squirt of the hypospray which neither animal sensed. Satisfied, Survani crept away, then hastened up to his office to devote his attention to the display screen. He did not want to miss what might happen - what he was sure this time would finally happen - when his charges awoke.

* * * * *

Bashir lay blinking up at the stars, momentarily disoriented. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. His head lay on a clump of moss, his feet were in a bush, and Garak was nowhere to be seen. Hastily, Bashir scrambled up.

"Garak?" he called urgently. There was no reply. Creeping around the edge of the bushes, Bashir could see that the compound was quite empty; there was, mercifully, no sign of the crowds which had thronged the enclosure earlier in the day. Moonlight tinged the surroundings with a wan light, quite strong enough to see by. In fact - Bashir's eyes narrowed. There was a small pile of clothing, folded neatly and carefully and set beneath the bushes. 

Crouching down, Bashir investigated: trousers, a shirt, thermal underwear... all indubitably belonging to Garak. So where the hell was he, Bashir thought with a crawling sense of unease. Had he been removed from the enclosure once more? What were the aliens doing to him then? - but this unpleasant train of speculation was interrupted by a sudden stirring in the water of the pool. The Cardassian stood waist deep, water pouring down his moonlit scales. Catching sight of Bashir, he gave a slow smile.

"Garak? What are you doing?"

The Cardassian spread his hands. "Isn't it obvious? I'm bathing. I woke, it was warm, and I felt -" his smile widened, "- too hot to sleep."

"I thought you'd disappeared again," Bashir said, immensely relieved. Garak shook his head, then arched his back and ran his hands through his hair, scattering silvery droplets in all directions.

"Why don't you join me, Julian? The water's really very pleasant."

Bashir drew breath to decline, but then thought, "Why not?" Garak was right. It was a warm night, and the sweat was already trickling down his neck. Besides, he'd slept enough that afternoon. With a nod, he stepped into the pool.

It was surprisingly deep. Bashir waded out to join his companion. Garak stood, still waist deep, gazing at him with an unfathomable expression. Moved by an impulse that he hadn't experienced since he was a child - the urge to do something completely nonsensical to someone - Bashir scooped up a handful of water and splashed it in the direction of the Cardassian. Garak moved too fast for Bashir, however; dodging the water, he grasped the doctor by the shoulders and dunked him. 

Spluttering, Bashir surfaced, to find himself clasped firmly in the Cardassian's embrace. Garak's skin was warm and wet against his own, smooth as stone, and Bashir could hardly help but notice that Garak was highly aroused; his erection lay hard against Bashir's own stomach. It was the moment that Bashir had dreamed about - his darkest, most secret imaginings - and he had never been so unenthusiastic. He felt utterly uninterested right then in the whole prospect of sex, and this alarmed him more than almost anything in the preceding few days; God knew, it wasn't precisely characteristic.

"Garak," he said, panicking, "hold on a moment -"

"What?" the Cardassian murmured, nipping his earlobe.

"Look, I'm really awfully sorry, extremely sorry in fact, but I'm just not in the-" At that point Garak kissed him, hard. The sensation of the warm, experienced mouth against his own should have been thrilling - hell, it HAD been thrilling whenever they'd kissed in the past - but now he couldn't be less aroused. Breaking away, and holding Garak firmly at arm's length, he gasped, "I'm not in the mood."

The Cardassian's eyes narrowed. "You're kidding."

Bashir shook his head.

"Mmmm," Garak purred, considering. "I see. It's going to be like that, is it? Want me to work for it? Very well."

"No, no, I'm not trying to be a - a tease, Garak, I'm really sorry, I just feel completely - well, I'm just not into sex at the moment, I've no idea why, and -"

As he was making this garbled protest, the Cardassian was leading him firmly to the shallows. As they reached the narrow strip of artificial beach, Garak dropped to his knees.

"What are you - oh. Oh."

In his current, mysteriously objective state, Bashir was able to wonder just how much practice the Cardassian had enjoyed where this kind of activity was concerned. Technically, he was flawless: firm, gentle, in all the right ways... but it just wasn't having any effect. This was more than embarrassing. It did not take long for Garak to notice.

"Julian," he said, releasing Bashir and resting back on his heels, "this isn't doing anything for you, is it?"

"Ah - no. No, it's not. I'm really very sorry - I don't know what the hell's the matter with me, Garak. I'm really sorry," Bashir said again, miserably.

"Stop apologizing," the Cardassian murmured. "It's not your fault. You're upset and stressed and-"

"But you really want it, don't you?"

Garak nodded. "I don't think I've ever wanted it more in my life," he said, thickly.

"And I've never felt less like it. You don't think they've put something into that water again, do you?"

"Maybe. If they did, remind me to bottle some and take it back with us. At least for me." He closed his eyes and seemed to tremble slightly with the strain.

"Oh, look," Bashir said, finally realizing the extent of Garak's frustration, "I can at least make things easier for you. Lie back." The Cardassian blinked and then complied, his eyes almost misting with gratitude, and Bashir bent his head in turn.

Three hours later, Garak finally fell asleep, his head pillowed on Bashir's shoulder. The doctor could only lie blinking into the alien darkness, and marvel. And marvel. Quite apart from the not inconsiderable blow to his own ego, it was unfortunate that their first real sexual encounter had perforce been so, well, one-sided. He'd never had such stamina, never even dreamed that it would be possible to have such stamina, even as a sixteen year old lad with a permanently inflamed crotch, and as for orgasm itself... remarkable. Absolutely remarkable. Perhaps it was a Cardassian specialty, one they kept carefully hidden from outsiders. 

Or perhaps it was something else. As the first thin light of dawn crept over the compound, Bashir made a resolution: they had to get out of there, and very soon, whatever the cost.

* * * * *

Survani rested his head on his folded arms and groaned. His superior would *have* to have walked in and seen the goings-on, just as the female mounted the male in a futile attempt at fertilization, the male remaining placid and unresponsive. So much for the hormone therapy. Then the male had, surprisingly, lowered himself to the female, but - no, it was not in an attempt to - "Something is wrong," Arrok had commented drily. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, no fertilization can occur through THOSE means." Survani could only lower his eyes in rueful agreement, then widen them in shock as the female turned and the viewscreen revealed a previously hidden, long, ridged, gray appendage that defied all description. "What is THAT?" Arrok had squawked.

"I - I - don't really know, Operator. Another secondary sexual characteristic?" Survani was almost cowering now.

"Secondary sexual characteristic? THAT?"

"Y-yes, it's probably... well, it's probably similar to the tu'fu in our own females. Perhaps the male needs to pay extra attention to the tu'fu in order to arouse the female and prepare her for -"

"That is one hell of a tu'fu," Arrok whistled. Survani started in surprise; Arrok's language was never less than decorous. In the next breath, though, he astutely observed, "It's no wonder the male has trouble satisfying her and needs to resort to these methods." Survani nodded. 

Something continued to bother him, though. Those 'methods' continued for many cycles more with never an attempt to then achieve fertilization... The male was undoubtedly - no, Survani mused. Homosexuality was out of the question; after all, hadn't he seen the male engage in the arm-waving, foot-stomping mating dance? Hadn't he seen the male groomed by the female, and hadn't the male jumped into the pool in a display of masculine prowess? Still, that didn't explain the total failure of the injections to trigger any sort of arousal... Unless...

Unless the male was a juvenile and was unsure of what was expected of him. Perhaps the aggressive behavior of the female frightened him; perhaps, too, he was unable to mate because of the very abundance of live food in the cage. Given a choice between eating and sex, perhaps this male preferred eating. His slim build no doubt signified a very rapid metabolism. Survani would have to cut back on the servings of bugs; in addition, he'd have to take the regrettable step of bringing the male into the lab for artificial stimulation. After all, if the female were to be fertilized in time for the spring birthing cycle, something would have to happen soon. Frightening the male any more than he already was would not be pleasant, but sometimes the ends justified the means, so to speak. Survani called for an assistant.

* * * * *


	5. Chapter 5

The night air grew chilly, and Bashir, drifting in and out of sleep, finally roused himself enough to dislodge the Cardassian and go in search of his clothing. So - it had happened at last, and with barely a preamble. So much for foreplay. Bashir felt an odd sense of disappointment even with Garak, despite his companion's obvious appreciation and equally obvious satisfaction. This wasn't how or where he wanted their "first night" to take place. He had always pictured starlight, a soft couch, privacy, perhaps some good music and a quiet conversation after dinner, and then - going to bed. Being taken so roughly, really, in an alien prison camp had never played into his fantasies. Bashir seldom admitted it even to himself, but his tastes were infinitely more refined than that, more delicate... more sophisticated. Perhaps there was more of his mother in him than he realized.

He retraced his steps around the narrow moonlit compound but could still find no trace of his clothing. Garak had probably folded it somewhere - he'd have to ask him. Meanwhile, the air was becoming even chillier and Bashir reached for the Cardassian's trousers. "He can make do with his underwear, if he needs it." One foot raised, he was attempting to insert a leg into the garment when the disorienting sparkle of an alien transporter overtook him.

* * * * *

"Just hold him down!" Survani insisted, over Bashir's outraged howls. "I can't do this properly if he keeps thrashing around on the table." The assistant, frightened, nonetheless kept a firm grip on the specimen's shoulders; the animal's ankles and wrists were bound to the table but that still left room for a fair amount of bucking and writhing. "Bring the container a little closer - I want you to be ready to collect... you know." 

Survani had never performed this particular maneuver on a specimen of that size before, and he felt almost embarrassed. He shouldn't have had to do this - it was humiliating. Ten years of graduate study and internships, for - for *this*; he might as well be working in one of the downtown pleasure-hotels. "Easy, little one," he tried to soothe Bashir, as his fur-covered hand continued lightly pinching and stroking his captive's reddening genitalia. "Just a few more minutes and you can go back to your friend."

"*****," Bashir distinctly heard his tormentor say, followed by "*****." He continued to plead with the two aliens nonetheless. "I don't - I mean, I really can't see why this is so important to you - what you're doing is COMPLETELY unacceptable - if you'd please just stop, I'd - PLEASE STOP, I SAID -" 

He began to pant. This was entirely, totally out of the question. Never had anyone, ANYONE, ever dared to - the sensation of the rough fur alternating with the glove-soft skin pads was like some new sort of torture, and Bashir began biting his lip and the insides of his cheeks in a futile attempt to keep the two creatures from getting what it was they seemed to want. But it was no use. It didn't help, either, that his mind kept replaying recent events with Garak and substituting the Cardassian's hand or mouth for that furry paw. With a loud groan and a shudder that nearly smacked him back against the table, he produced exactly the sample Survani had been hoping for. "Oh, God," Bashir sighed, humiliated, as the smaller of the aliens patted him gently on the chest.

"Quick," a jubilant Survani exulted, "put this into a syringe for me. I need to take it to the female."

"What do you plan to do with it?"

"Why, inject it into her pupation cavity, of course," the biologist answered condescendingly. "What did you think?"

"Arrok says he's not certain the female HAS a pupation cavity -" but Survani cut off any further remarks with a glare.

"Just tend to the male and feed him a little breakfast - I don't know when he's last eaten. He doesn't seem to favor the pre-chewed pods; I suppose a few spiders won't do him any harm. Then we'll transport him back to the female when I return." The assistant bowed.

Garak, still deep in post-coital slumber, barely even felt the gentle hiss of air against his "pupation cavity," nor did he wake as an outraged and pale Bashir materialized a few meters away from him and promptly retched into the bushes. "Garak! Get up!" Bashir barked, with a kick against the Cardassian's rear end. "We're getting OUT of here NOW!" Garak groggily opened his eyes and blinked against the brightening sky.

"Hmm? Wh-what are you talking about?"

"We're getting out of here NOW." Bashir angrily located the Cardassian's trousers and once more started to pull them on.

"Why are you wearing my clothes?"

"Because I can't find my own. What did you do with them? Hide them?" Garak shook his head. "Then maybe they took them. Either way, I'm not staying here. God knows what they plan to continue doing with us."

"Doing with us? What do you mean? Did something happen to you?"

Bashir angrily threw the Cardassian's underwear at him. "Damned right something happened to me. These people are animals, Garak. They belong in a zoo, not - not capturing and torturing innocent travelers like us who happened to wander into their space. Come on - get dressed." His anger was giving him new strength and determination. Too bad his companion was still so groggy from the previous night's spectacular exertions. "Hurry, I said, before those other guards come back and start watching the cell." Garak clambered to his feet. "We can try to scale that fence."

"'Scale' that fence, doctor?"

"Climb. Climb that fence."

"I really don't think that's possible. Wouldn't they have thought of that?"

"I don't know. But it doesn't seem very high."

"But there's that trench around it."

"It's not too deep. Stop thinking of reasons for us not to do it! Please just go and see what you can find out. Over there, by that edge - the ground looks a little higher." Garak obediently trotted off to one side of the enclosure, where the fence seemed easiest to reach. Tentatively, he put a hand on the mesh, and then another. Just then, with a ponderous grunt that reverberated in the morning air, a beast vaguely similar to, but several times larger than, a Terran hippopotamus came nosing up to the fence from the neighboring enclosure, in a futile attempt to reach the Cardassian. 

Bashir shouted at him. "Get away from there!"

"Well, obviously, doctor." Garak scrambled back to the pool; the creature continued benignly watching them. "They seem to have these beasts guarding us as well."

"They're awfully afraid of our escaping. We must be very valued prisoners." He sank down to the ground. "I confess, I'm running out of things to try. We're beaten at every turn. This is intolerable. Sisko will never find us here." He let his head flop down onto his chest. Garak, compassion welling up in him at the sight, sat down next to him and placed a comforting hand on the human's arm.

"Don't worry - we'll get out of here. They won't stop looking until they find us. I'm sure that -" He paused. In the distance, he could hear what sounded like artificially-amplified alien voices, coming nearer and nearer. Bashir heard them too, and fearfully raised his head to see what new torments were about to present themselves. Suddenly, from around a bend in the roadway outside the enclosure sputtered an odd ground-transport vehicle, stopping in view of the two men. 

Inside the open seating area were an assortment of aliens, similar to their captors but of different sizes and colors, all listening raptly to a larger one in the front, speaking into a device that amplified his/her/its clicks and squeals. "*****," the being seemed to be saying, as all eyes regarded Garak and Bashir with interest. "I'll be damned," Garak said angrily. "A prison tour of inspection. The bastards." He rose to his feet and began pelting the vehicle with pebbles.

The Cardassian's frustration only seemed to amuse the aliens, Bashir noted furiously. They hooted and clicked, pointing with excitement as Garak redoubled his assault. The hail of pebbles did appear to have accomplished something, however, as the vehicle rumbled slowly away. Bashir was just about to offer congratulations when the tell-tale transporter sparkle manifested around the Cardassian like a halo, and it was again Garak's turn to vanish. Bashir cursed, and stormed back inside the cell.

An hour later, Garak reappeared, in mid-cry.

"What?" Bashir shouted, leaping to his feet. The Cardassian glared at him, but slowly his evident fury faded. He ran a shaking hand through his disordered hair and took a deep, steadying breath.

I"m sorry, Julian. I wasn't shouting at you."

"It was them, wasn't it? They did it to you too!"

"Did what?"

As briefly and clinically as possible, Bashir explained precisely what the aliens had done. Garak stared at him in horror - with just a little bit of fascination mixed in too, but mainly horror; he resisted the urge to ask the human to repeat the most provocative of the details.

"No, they didn't do that. To be honest, doctor, I'm not sure they'd have known where to look - unlike yourself, my genitals are not quite so - ahem - visibly displayed unless I'm aroused, which is hardly likely to happen when I'm flat on my back or my stomach on a lab table. I may have entertained some unusual fantasies in my time, but that isn't one of them." 

"So what did they do?"

"It was worse."

"Worse? How could it possibly be worse?"

"Let's just say they again put me through another kind of examination, this one much more thorough than the last one." An irritable gesture toward the relevant part of his anatomy left Bashir in little doubt as to what manner of examination he meant.

"Look," the doctor said, wearily, "this torture could go on for weeks, and personally, I can't handle it. We have to work out some kind of strategy. Come here and sit down." 

Garak winced at that. "You'll be the lucky one," he remarked, with feeling. "And while we're on the subject of torture, why do there appear to be spiders in your hair?"

"I don't want to discuss it."

They stared at one another.

"All right," Garak finally said. "Let's try and consider this logically. There's no way of rigging up a transmitter. There doesn't seem to be any way out of the enclosure, and even if we did escape, we'd be unlikely to get very far. When they took me up to the lab, I had a glance into one of the side offices and there's a bank of video monitors which show the whole compound. I could see you, here in the cell. Why were you hopping about like that, by the way?"

"More bugs."

"I see. In any case, from the brief glimpse I got, they have every prisoner here under surveillance - and there are lots of them."

"I guess I kind of expected that. This is a weird sort of prison, though." Bashir decided that it was finally time to give voice to the unpleasant possibility that had been lurking uneasily at the bottom of his mind, like a large and savage eel in the mud of a pool. He drew a deep breath and said, "You know, I've been thinking a lot about that vehicle. Those people on board - they seemed different from our captors."

Garak thought for a moment. "Perhaps they were a little smaller."

"And, yesterday, they threw food. Similar aliens did, I mean. What does that suggest to you?"

"That knowing our lack, and our hunger," the Cardassian said bitterly, "they delighted in tormenting us with it."

"Garak, if you don't mind me saying so, I think your tendency to relate everything to perceived Cardassian torture techniques might not be all that helpful in the long run."

"Well then," Garak said, clearly nettled,"what's your view?"

Bashir took a deep breath. "Those smaller aliens - they might be children, Garak. Children on a visit to - Well, have you considered that this may possibly not be a prison at all? That, just possibly, it's some sort of -"

"Some sort of what?"

"Some sort of... Well, some sort of... zoo?"

"ZOO?"

"Zoo."


	6. Chapter 6

Garak stared at the human, dumbfounded. "A - a ZOO? As in animals? I'm an exhibit in a ZOO?" His breathing grew more rapid. "Oh no, doctor, I don't think so."

"Well, I'm starting to."

"I'm most definitely not. There is no way this can be a zoo. We're prisoners - quite valuable prisoners, in fact, if the way we're being treated is any indication. Our advanced physiologies are being studied, we're being forced to produce samples in an attempt to replicate our DNA, we're not being given any information that would help us determine who is holding us, or where, since it's obvious we have the intelligence to escape..."

"We're being fed berries and insects from a plate on the floor, we're watched incessantly by zookeepers and other visitors, we're being held in a pen with no bathroom facilities, next to at least one animal that is most definitely NOT intelligent..."

Garak shook his head. "But what about -"

"I know it's not a pretty thought," Bashir conceded, "but it's certainly not beyond the bounds of probability."

"But - but we're wearing clothes! We've attempted many times to communicate - we're obviously intelligent!" he pleaded again, as if in an attempt to convince Bashir and thus make his refutation of Bashir's theory true.

"Maybe our captors don't care. Maybe, in fact, they don't even realize the significance of anything we've been doing. There have been cases before of aliens capturing intelligent lifeforms, after all, and treating them the way we're being treated."

"But - but - I'm a Cardassian! I will not be treated like an animal! This is completely unacceptable!"

Bashir recalled himself saying those exact words while being held down, manipulated, and forced to produce a sample - "Garak, we've *already* been treated like animals. I think we'd better get used to it, because it appears we're going to continue to be subjected to this treatment for the foreseeable future."

Garak blinked rapidly in consternation. As if reading Bashir's thoughts, he faltered, "But - but these things they've been doing to us - all this sexual interest. Maybe they're not zookeepers at all; maybe they're simply perverts?"

"No, Garak, they're not. They're probably normal whatever-they-are's, and we're animals. In captivity."

The look on Garak's face suggested that he did not find this metaphor at all amusing. "Well, just assuming your theory is correct... what are we to do about it?"

"What CAN we do? I suppose we could lull their suspicions. Try and find out whatever it is they expect of us, and capitulate. Then, when they begin losing interest, when things start to fall into a regular routine, we'll make our move. How about a tunnel?"

"We're under surveillance, remember. There's no way we could even dig a pit, let alone a tunnel, without being noticed and stopped. But maybe we could take another tack - pretend to be ill, and try and capture one of them, perhaps."

"I don't know," Bashir mused. "Too risky - those things are twice as big as we are - the last thing I want is to be attacked by one of them."

"Doctor - are zoo animals attacked by the zookeepers? Seems to me we'd lose very little by trying. We could hold one hostage and ask to be heard. Still, our total inability to communicate with them makes any hostage situation fairly futile - how could we broadcast our demands? If we're indeed animals, all we'd be now are animals on an incomprehensible rampage." Despite himself, he began to smile at the image.

"Speaking of animals on a rampage - look. Some of our friends are back." Garak raised his eyes to the fence and saw a small but eager crowd of onlookers watching them; two of them held what appeared to be portable recording devices, judging by the way the devices were continually aimed at the compound, an alien eye behind each one. The Cardassian looked closer - several of the smaller aliens were clutching something in their furry paws, 

"Doctor, do you see what they're holding?"

"Hmm?" Bashir glanced up again. "Yeah - they look like models or - toys - of some sort."

"You're right, they're toys. I'm afraid it's seeming more and more as if your theory about our location is correct. This 'zoo' undoubtedly has a gift shop, doctor - a gift shop that rapidly meets the demands of its customers. Those objects appear to be miniature models of several of the creatures I saw on the video monitors - including ourselves." Bashir did a double-take and stood up to get a closer view.

"My God, you're right, Garak - there's that animal we saw next door, and there's what looks like a bird - and there's me - and there you are. A remarkable representation," he smirked. "They got your skin color just right."

"Doctor, please - this is serious. I would never wear such an appalling combination of purple and mauve." He sniffed; Bashir didn't point out that Garak frequently wore a suit back on DS9 that contained exactly those colors. The two sat back down on the ground, hands on their knees, regarding their latest collection of visitors. There seemed little point to any action, but action would have to be taken nonetheless. "Should I throw some more pebbles at them?"

"No." Bashir waved his hand dismissively. "That's cruel - they're not bothering us, just watching." Garak nodded. "And yet..." Something in his tone caused the Cardassian to swivel his head to look at him. "They're ALL watching us, right? Even on those monitors?" Garak slowly nodded again. "Then let's do it - let's give them all a show. You said they were obsessed with sexual behavior - so let's give them something sexual to watch."

"Are you serious?" The Cardassian was doubtful. "Doctor - are you sure you want to, after your performance last night?" Bashir winced.

"I feel fine now - better than fine, actually - and if you remember, my performance was satisfactory enough after they took me to their ridiculous lab. I think possibly they drugged us and got the signals mixed up. Injected me with the wrong hormones or something."

"Well... I can't say I relish the thought of - 'performing' - for them again." That was most definitely not true. "Still, if that's what they want..." His eyes were bright; a willing and eager Bashir was truly a tantalizing prospect, no matter what the reason, and as for Garak himself - his ardor of the night before hadn't quite worn off. He turned to his partner with a smile, ready to begin romancing him with a gentle caress, but the human was already on him, twisting off the Cardassian-style underwear and nipping him rather sharply on the neck ridges. Garak gasped and grabbed a fistful of the doctor's hair. The crowd outside the fence drew closer; arms raised the 'cameras' to get a better view. Garak, preoccupied with trying to pin the slender human beneath him, gave an almost savage roar as Bashir wriggled free and slapped him sharply across the face.

"If you want me, you're going to have to catch me," he purred, dashing toward the pool. 

The Cardassian grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him face down onto the moss, then hissed into his ear, "Like this, you mean? Are you sure you want the children to see this?"

"Why not?" Bashir hissed back. "Plenty of animals mate in zoos - it's all part of nature."

Garak hooked an arm around Bashir's neck, drew him closer, and hissed again, "Yes, but those animals are usually male and female. I wonder what these people think."

"Maybe they think - oh God, Garak, I didn't know you were that ready..." He tried to buck and throw the Cardassian off; Garak only gripped him harder.

"Perhaps they think that's what they're watching. You're very beautiful, my dear Julian - maybe you've got them confused. You're absolutely lovely." Bashir reddened.

"Maybe YOU'VE got them confused - maybe those blue eyes..." He thought for a moment, a difficult prospect under his current circumstances. "Maybe..." He groaned and waited until he could again speak. "Maybe... Garak, why are zookeepers so interested in the sexual behavior of animals?" Garak gave a low growl but said nothing; a horrified light dawned in the human's eyes. "They surely can't be expecting us to produce offspring!" Bashir gasped. The Cardassian paused in his ministrations.

"We'll just have to disappoint them, then, won't we? But it won't be for lack of trying." Throwing back his head, he emitted a growl not dissimilar to the sort of noise Bashir had once noted in a vid-program about Helucinian rhinoceri.

"Garak, hold on a moment -" But it was much too late. In the few remaining seconds before Bashir was flattened into the soft sand at the edge of the pool, he saw that one of the larger aliens was covering its offspring's eyes, and the furor of soft, alarmed hooting around the edge of the enclosure was the last thing he heard before an entirely more urgent sensory experience claimed him.

And continued to claim him, several times daily, for at least the next two weeks, as far as he could determine. His clothing was never returned, and as the garments he shared with Garak grew increasingly worn out and soiled, it was easier for the two of them to dispense with clothing entirely and loll about the compound in a frequent state of naked bliss. To their relief, the feeding situation had improved - the nuts, leaves and berries they were again being offered, with only the occasional centipede or grub thrown in for variety, were at least palatable, and the water in the pool was changed once every other day, rendering it clean enough for bathing. The inside cell, likewise, was cleaned daily, but the two men had started to spend most of their time outside as the weather grew warmer. 

They talked, they strategized, they relaxed, they played games. Their favorite was one Bashir had dubbed "Hunt the Cardassian," the simple rules no doubt self-evident even to the perpetually uncomprehending observation of the zookeepers. Almost every meter of the compound was utilized in the game, including the pool, through which the men splashed with great enthusiasm as the elusive prey was pursued. It was remarkable how swiftly a Cardassian male who implicitly wanted to be captured could move, even within the confines of the enclosure and of the game rules which prohibited standing upright. 

"Hunt the Cardassian," as was undoubtedly the way of most games with a similar theme, always devolved into "Subdue the Human," to Bashir's great delight and the continued alarm of any visitors who happened to catch sight of the "game" in play. Every once in a while, Bashir thought back to his former life on the station, performing surgery, working on research or chairing subspace conferences, and felt a twinge of guilt at how much he was enjoying this little - preferably temporary - interlude after all. He had, when it came to that, always loved zoos.

* * * * *


	7. Chapter 7

"Molly! Yoshi!" Miles O'Brien called out cheerfully in the direction of the playroom. "Daddy's going to show the movie now." He inserted the datarod into the computer and waited. The last several weeks had been intolerable, with Bashir and Garak missing and the whole station out looking for them. It was important to put on a brave face for the sake of his children, and so O'Brien had dutifully made a trip to Quark's to pick up the latest arrival, another in a series of travel holovids. 

He didn't know where Quark managed to obtain such a wide-ranging collection of intergalactic entertainment, but the vids were marvelously varied as well as highly educational. Why, within the past few months, he had traveled with Molly and Yoshi to the Crystal Caves of Deneb Four, snacked on mountain lilies with a nomad family on Aurelius, and this week, if the inscription was correct, he and the children were going far into the Gamma Quadrant to visit the Grand Zoo on Bor'wat No'voo.

"Bor WHAT?" he had asked Quark.

"I'm not sure," the Ferengi admitted, coyly holding on to the datarod. "All I was told was that it was somewhere in the Gamma Quadrant."

"And just how did YOU manage to come upon a holovid from the Gamma Quadrant?"

"One of my contacts got it from another contact and sold it to me - he told me he heard it was very funny." Quark leaned closer and leered. "He said there were some rather, ah, 'provocative' things going on in that zoo."

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad. It's probably just animals being animals - that's what they do." He grabbed the small cylinder.

"Whatever you say." The Ferengi spread his hands. "I take no responsibility for the corruption of our youth." O'Brien grunted.

"A zoo, hmm?" he mused, half out loud. "Could be interesting - Yoshi loves animals, and I'm curious to see just what they're keeping over there myself. Okay. I'll take it. How much?"

"For you - ten credits."

"TEN credits?!"

"This piece of entertainment has traveled a very long way and has passed through many hands - you surely don't expect me to offer it for free."

"Okay, Quark, I'll give you five credits." He took a final swallow of his drink and left, the datarod in his hand.

That had been earlier that afternoon, all thoughts of entertainment previously forgotten after Bashir and Garak had failed to return from New Bajor in the Gamma Quadrant. Not a sign of them or of their runabout, not a sound from the emergency beacon, not even an ion trail to show where they might have gone. It was both maddening and upsetting and O'Brien had barely been able to sleep for over two weeks, as he worked ceaselessly in Ops or on board a rescue shuttle to locate the men. Sisko finally insisted he take an evening off. "Don't worry, chief - we're doing everything we can, and you need your rest for one night. Go to your family for a while and try to relax." O'Brien had reluctantly agreed and decided to spend an hour or so alone with his children before trying to catch a little sleep. 

Molly and Yoshi scampered onto the couch next to him, and O'Brien started the recording. He was fascinated despite himself at the truly "alien" inscriptions and sounds introducing the program; yet, if he didn't know better, he'd almost think this was some sort of old-fashioned "television" broadcast. There were what appeared to be advertisements - advertisements! - inserted into the recording, for everything from some type of beverage to the latest in Bor'wat transportation. Five extremely large and extremely hairy native specimens were all hanging off the sides of a large and rickety ground car as it careened down a mountain road. O'Brien winced; the children squealed with excitement.

Then the program itself began. A creature, obviously a zoo guide of some kind, introduced itself; the clicks and grunts were indecipherable. "I thought this thing was supposed to be translated," O'Brien muttered under his breath, but the children didn't seem to mind. After the furry hulk had finished explaining whatever it had been explaining, the view changed to one of the enclosures in which two enormous cat-like beasts were pacing and rolling. In a nearby pen grazed a small herd of what looked like gazelles. "Hope they keep those apart," O'Brien thought to himself.

The children were riveted, but his mind began to wander. Perhaps there was something he hadn't tried yet, some way of unlocking a clue from the final communication Bashir had sent. There had to be *something* - they couldn't have just disappeared into thin air. O'Brien began to fidget, then finally jumped up and went into the bedroom to use the terminal at his desk. The squeaks and squawks from the living room barely distracted him as he became absorbed in his task. Periodically, there'd be a comment or a giggle from one of the children as they watched the strange tour; O'Brien listened with one ear as he concentrated on his work. Suddenly he heard Molly laugh, "Doctor Bashir's funny." O'Brien continued to work. She giggled again. "Look how he's chasing him." Something in her voice caused him to raise his head.

"Look how who's chasing who, Molly?" he called into the living room.

"Doctor Bashir - he's growling like a tiger!"

"What?" O'Brien, half-smiling, got up and began walking into the room. Whatever it was would probably be interesting, no doubt - he was fascinated by his children and their vivid imaginations. He stood in the doorway and looked over at the screen. There, in front of his disbelieving eyes, were a presumably naked Bashir and an equally naked Garak covered with mud and moss, chasing each other on all fours - Bashir periodically emitted a low growl that caused the children to whoop with delight. O'Brien stood frozen, completely unable to move, his mouth hanging open as he watched the Cardassian suddenly spin around and grab the doctor around the neck. The intention was clear; the two men were very shortly going to be in flagrante delicto in front of the room. O'Brien dove for the controls.

"Kids! Guess what? Daddy's going to take you both for ice cream!" he proclaimed over their disappointed howls. "But first, Daddy has to talk to Captain Sisko about something - I'll be right back." He dashed to the communications console in the bedroom.

* * * * *

Survani caught sight of himself in the reflective panel that led into his office, and winced. His fur, normally so sleek and carefully groomed, was dull and matted. There were bags around his eyes, and the whole length of his tall figure seemed to droop. He looked as though he hadn't slept for three days, which was, Survani remembered dolefully, nothing more than the truth.

But who could blame him? And who would have thought it? The way Dominion propaganda put it, the quadrant beyond their own was occupied by only a few rudimentary species in a pitiful state of development, all of them - so the Vorta newscasts constantly reminded him - pathetically desperate for Dominion incursion. Granted, Survani took absolutely no interest in politics, and his people had relatively little to do with the Dominion anyway, save on a basic administrative level, so he felt there was some excuse for what had turned out to be a rather major degree of misjudgment on his part.

Intelligent life, though. They certainly hadn't behaved like it, Survani thought, bitterly. And Arrok had been as surprised as anyone to see the cold, dignified face of one of their specimens' own species appearing on the screen, with a warship bridge behind him, demanding the return of his 'colleagues.' Arrok was now claiming that it had been obvious all along, and that he'd known nothing of Survani's obtaining and nurturing - no, capture and imprisonment, as it was now being referred to - of two alien species. Both of whom were male, as it happened. It was enough to make him want to go home to his mother's house and hide under a sleeping mat for the rest of his life. Taking a deep breath, Survani stepped through the door of his office and prepared himself to face the music as best he could.

To his surprise, however, Arrok was nowhere to be seen. Instead, two people were standing by his desk: a person whom Survani recognized as the regional governor, and the commander of the alien warship - a tall, dark person. "You've spoken to Captain Sisko already, I believe?" the governor said. Dumbly, Survani mottled his fur in assent. "Good. Then you'll already have received his gratitude for taking care of his personnel."

"I understand you've housed and fed them for the duration of their stay here. I also gather they've received medical attention," the dark alien said. "We really are most grateful, especially given the current political climate."

Bewildered, Survani opened his mouth to say something, but then encountered the chilly, warning gaze of the regional governor. Survani might not be a politician, but he wasn't a complete idiot either, and he recognized a mutually convenient cover-up when he saw one.

"In a token of our gratitude," the governor said, still with that warning look, "we've decided to appoint you as the head of your own zoo."

"My own -?" Survani recognized a bribe when he saw one, too. "Your eminence is generous beyond the boundary of dreams. Where might it be?"

"It's on the Shkuarat peninsula, just where the Biting Desert meets the Great Emptiness. I understand there's a rare colony of toothed flesh-burrowers there that need round-the-clock attention."

"I see."

"Can't let all your expertise go to waste, now can we?" the governor said, with a ghastly smirk. "You'll be leaving within the hour."

"I wish you luck," the alien said, and had the nerve to smile as Survani numbly reached out to take his paw. Or hand. Whatever.

* * * * *

"I don't care what you say, Garak - those people were definitely laughing at us." Bashir irritably pushed the food around his plate. "Staring at us and smiling." In truth, any attention at all from other diners in the replimat was rather disconcerting - he and Garak, after their return, had resumed their very neutral public facade while their new and much more passionate private relationship remained just that - private. Very, very private, in fact.

"Nonsense, doctor - they're simply happy to see us back, and in such good condition. We were gone for almost a month, after all."

"I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am. Now, are you going to finish your spice pudding, or -?"

"No, go ahead, you take it," Bashir offered. "I'm not hungry."

"You certainly can't be missing the food in that - that zoo."

"No, it's not that. It's just hard to believe it's all over, really."

"Well, it is," the Cardassian reassured him. "Put it completely out of your mind - it was one of those incidents best locked away and forgotten. As far as I've been able to determine, Captain Sisko has not shared details of our capture with anyone. We'll proceed as if nothing had happened - after a while, people will forget we even left the station and will stop noticing us at all. We'll be completely uninteresting to them." He attacked the pudding with relish.

A few doorways down the Promenade, Quark pocketed another hundred credits for a rental of his special, copy-protected, duplicate "Grand Zoo" datarod. Dax had always loved animals, he grinned. "Bring it back by this time tomorrow night," he called after her. "There's a waiting list."

 

The End


End file.
